Mean Teens and Drama Queens
by EmiEllie
Summary: Stay away from the Unholy Trinity. That was the one piece of advice everyone at McKinley High kept giving her, but some things are easier said than done. Rachel-centric; loosely inspired by Mean Girls. Rated M for language and girls being mean.
1. Prologue: Unholier Than Thou

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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**Prologue: Unholier Than Thou**

It was the first day of a brand new academic year and Rachel Berry was staring up at the imposing concrete structure known as William McKinley High School. She hadn't set foot inside a formal educational institution since she was eight years old. Both of her dads were international aid workers, which meant they traveled a lot and Rachel had gotten used to being home-schooled. It always seemed pointless enrolling in a class only to move on to another city or country six weeks later.

Once they had settled in Lima, Ohio, her fathers had decided that it was high time she made friends with some of the local kids. So they enrolled her at McKinley. The head teacher, Principal Figgins, having looked over all her work, had determined that she was up to the standards of a highly advanced junior year student. He'd asked whether she wanted to join the senior class instead, but Rachel had ultimately decided that it would be best to start off in easier classes, in case it took a little while for her to adjust to the new environment. After all, just _going_ to school was a completely novel and daunting experience for her.

The only thing that made the situation easier was having her best friend, Sam Evans, by her side every step of the way. Rachel's dads had been friends with the Evans family since long before either she or Sam were born, so they'd known one another their entire lives. Unfortunately, their contact over the last decade or so had been limited to letters, emails and the occasional phone call. As far as Rachel was concerned, even being in the same state as Sam was a pretty huge improvement.

Rachel was shaken from her reverie by Sam's warm hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Stop fretting. You're going to be fine," he tried to reassure her. She hadn't realized just how obviously panicked she'd been acting. "Now, take a deep breath and tell me once more what the three most important things to remember about McKinley are."

She followed his advice precisely, taking in a lung-full of fresh air through her nose before exhaling from her mouth. "Don't eat the cafeteria chili," Rachel recited, as if on autopilot. Sam had told her these rules so many times that there was no way she'd _ever_ forget them. "Don't look Sue Sylvester in the eyes." That earned a nod of approval from Sam.

"And what is _the_ most important piece of advice I have given you?" he pressed.

Honestly, Rachel thought these rules were stupid. As a vegan, there was no way she would have even contemplated eating the cafeteria chili. And Sue Sylvester was the cheerleading coach so Rachel could see no reason why she'd _ever _come into contact with her. But Sam was giving her this look - the same one he got when he was focusing really hard on a math problem or playing a football match - that told her he wasn't going to give up until she completed the list. "Under _no_ circumstances must I talk to, look at, or associate with the Unholy Trinity," she sighed.

"Good," Sam said, finally satisfied that she'd been paying attention to him. "They are trouble, Rachel. You don't want to get involved with them. I know how optimistic and idealistic you are, but you've got to understand that there's no changing some people."

Hearing Sam speak so negatively about a group of people was quite unusual. He was always so warm and kind, never judging anyone and always trying to see the best in them. Even though he was trying to discourage her from associating with this 'Unholy Trinity', it only made her all the more intrigued. Surely there was more to Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce than Sam had given them credit for.

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**So, what do you think? Please review to let me know. I would LOVE your feedback :) xox**

**(This story is only going to be very loosely based on Mean Girls, so I think it should be quite an exciting journey).**


	2. Land of Misfit Toys

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

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**Chapter One: Land of Misfit Toys**

Rachel's first morning of classes passed quickly and without any problems. A few of the teachers had insisted that she introduce herself to her fellow students, but she loved being the center of attention so it wasn't too embarrassing for her. With the exception of a few snickers here and there from some of the jocks and cheerleaders, she'd been well received. She hadn't yet come into contact with the infamous Unholy Trinity, either, which she supposed was probably a good thing.

There was this one boy in her Physics class, who wore his flamboyant designer clothing with unbridled confidence, that really intrigued Rachel. She instantly admired his desire to stand out in a sea of Cheerios uniforms and letterman jackets, since it was a desire she could already relate to. Never one to let her nerves get the better of her, Rachel made the bold move of sitting down at the empty desk beside him. Before she even had chance to say hello, the boy started talking. "Hey, new girl," he greeted her jovially. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Nice to meet you, Kurt. I'm Ra-"

"Rachel Berry, I know," he finished for her, flicking his wrist dismissively. "Puck wouldn't stop prattling on about how '_fine'_ you are when I bumped into him at my locker between second and third period."

Rachel blushed in spite of herself. No one besides her fathers had ever really complemented her appearances before, probably because the only teenage boy she'd spent any length of time around was Sam, and he was almost like a brother to her. "Uh, Puck?" she asked self-consciously. "Is he the one with the mohawk?"

Kurt's previously cheerful expression soured into a scowl. "I've been trying to convince him to get that stupid ferret shaved off for years, but does he listen? Of course not."

"Are you two friends, then?" Rachel didn't like being presumptuous - she was a great believer that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover - but Noah Puckerman had just seemed so _uncouth _in their History class that morning, hollering and cursing, paying no attention to their teacher, and making crude gestures at her whilst he thought no one else was looking. Kurt was certainly much more mature and _refined _than Noah, so the idea of them being friends was somewhat surprising.

"He's not actually as bad as he first seems," Kurt replied reassuringly, obviously catching on to her skepticism. "My brother is best friends with him, so I see quite a bit of him."

Trying to give Noah the benefit of the doubt for the time being, Rachel nodded her head. She was just about to ask Kurt more about his brother when their teacher called the class to attention. The rest of the lesson was spent listening to Mr Turner blather on about the solar system, a topic that Rachel already knew plenty about.

When the bell rang out, signalling the start of her lunch period, Kurt stood up and looped his arm through hers. "Come on, new girl. You're having lunch with me today."

Rachel was about to protest that she'd already agreed to eat with Sam, but she didn't feel like she was in any position to pass up on an opportunity to make new friends, so she smiled brightly and followed Kurt towards the cafeteria with a spring in her step, quickly shooting off a text to Sam to inform him of the change of plans.

Upon entering the large hall, Rachel was struck by just how _segregated_ it was. Those lame high school dramas hadn't been exaggerating the importance of cliques. Kurt navigated them through the crowd in search of his own group of friends, pointing out all the different groups. "You have your popular guys, cheerleaders and varsity jocks in this corner," he said, indicating a large group of students to their left. "Then there's the social climbers trying to make it to the highest rungs of the McKinley ladder right next to them, followed by the preps, stoners, goths and emos, school newspaper and AV club members, and arts students."

The system seemed relatively straightforward, save for the fact she had no idea about her own position in the hierarchy. "So... Where do new kids sit?" she asked uncertainly.

"Usually in the bathroom," he replied simply. "But you're with me, so I'll make sure you're safe."

Just then, Kurt led her to a table in the corner where three other students were already eating their lunch. A friendly-looking, black girl waved at them as they approached, making sure Kurt could see them among the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria. A pretty, petite Asian girl sat on her left, whilst a paraplegic boy with thick-rimmed glasses and a bow tie filled the spot to her right.

"Guys, this is Rachel Berry. She's new here," Kurt introduced her to his friends. "Rachel, this is Mercedes, Tina, and Artie."

Rachel said hello to each of them in turn and then took a seat next to Tina. None of them seemed particularly averse to her presence at their table, so she assumed they were some of the few people at McKinley that didn't care about social status. It was refreshing to know not everyone was obsessed with imposing labels on themselves and others.

After a moment of companionable silence, Mercedes turned to her. "So, Rachel... I don't suppose you sing, do you?"

She couldn't suppress the smile that broke out onto her face. Singing was _not_ just a pastime for Rachel; it was pretty much her one and only passion in life. She'd been obsessed with music since the very first time she saw Barbra in _Funny Girl_ at age five. It didn't take long for her to realize the bright lights of Broadway were calling to her. "Actually, I do," she confessed.

"Well, that's good, because our glee club took a pretty severe hit when our senior members graduated. We need five more members to qualify for competition and Mr Schuester is losing his mind. I don't suppose you'd want to join?"

Rachel had no idea that McKinley High had its own glee club, since she hadn't seen it advertised on the notice boards with all the other extracurricular groups. She did, however, recognize the name Mr Schuester as that of her Spanish teacher. "Yeah. Where do I sign up?" she asked, feeling enthusiastic at the prospect of making a whole group of other friends whilst simultaneously getting the opportunity to cultivate her talent.

"Oh. Mr Schuester doesn't post a sign-up sheet like the other clubs because Coach Sylvester and her cheerleaders always vandalize it," Artie explained. "He does have an open audition policy though, so you could just come with us to the choir room after school. We have a practice today anyway."

Rachel nodded in understanding, until a thought occurred to her. "Wait. Why would Coach Sylvester do that?"

Each of the glee club members started to laugh, as if they were in on some sort of private joke. "Oh, Rachel," Kurt gasped through his hysterics, placing a delicate hand on her shoulder. "You'll come to realize two things about Sue Sylvester. Firstly, she's really mean. Like the Grinch, her greatest joy in life is stealing other people's cheer."

"Isn't she supposed to be a cheerleading coach, though?" Rachel asked in confusion. Surely her job was to _instill_ a sense of optimism and spirit in the girls under her tutelage, not to take it away.

Kurt continued without answering her. "Secondly, she _hates_ the glee club and everything it stands for. She hates self-acceptance, empowerment and, most of all, she hates Will Schuester."

It shouldn't have been entirely surprising to her that Coach Sylvester was such a miserable, old cow, given the number of horror stories Sam had told her. But there was something so _unnatural_ about hating a glee club.

"We should warn you, Rachel," Kurt continued somberly. "Being a part of glee club isn't easy. It's definitely fun to sing and dance, but we all pay the price for it. Even our place in the cafeteria should be enough to tell you how little the other students think of us."

Rachel took a good look at her surroundings, noting that they were positioned right next to the fire escape such that a constant draft could be felt at their table. They also had three overflowing trash cans within a ten foot radius of them and, as she looked up to the ceiling, she noticed someone's shoes hanging from the rafters by their laces.

"We're sub-basement in the social hierarchy," Tina said, casting her eyes downwards. "At least that's what Coach Sylvester tells us."

It was in that moment that Rachel realized just how brutally mean high school could be. Rachel knew that she would be subjecting herself to daily torture by joining the glee club - she would certainly never be accepted to the popular kids' table - but it didn't stop her from wanting to do it. It wasn't in her nature to run scared just because life wasn't easy. Her fathers had taught her that much. "I'll do it," she declared fervently. "I want to be in glee club, so I'm going to come and audition for Mr Schuester this afternoon."

Kurt and his friends all seemed pretty excited about her decision, their faith renewed simply because she chose not to care what other people thought of her. They moved on to lighter topics of conversation for the rest of their lunch period, making sure that Rachel felt included in their little group of friends.

As she and Kurt left the cafeteria and headed towards their lockers before their next classes, Rachel worked up the courage to ask a question she'd been contemplating ever since she'd found out just how shunned the glee clubbers were. "Kurt... Why doesn't your brother stop his friends from bullying you?"

The expression on Kurt's face was one of utter confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's just... You said he's friends with Noah, which must mean that he's popular. So, why does he just let his friends pick on you and your friends?"

Kurt sighed. "Finn doesn't _let_ anyone bully me, Rachel. There's only so much he can do. He doesn't let anyone threaten me, or hurt me, or throw slushies in my face. But he can't _force_ people to talk to me. Besides, he doesn't really associate with any of the jocks off the football pitch. He avoids the cafeteria altogether because he feels like he doesn't fit in anywhere. As quarterback, it's practically his birth right to sit at the head of the jocks' table but, like I said, he doesn't like those guys... except for Puck, Mike and Sam, of course."

"Sam? Sam Evans?" Rachel asked eagerly.

"Yeah. Do you know him or something?"

"He's my best friend."

A wry smile tugged at Kurt's lips as he contemplated this information. "Then maybe you should ask Sam why he doesn't stop the jocks from bullying us?" he suggested without any hint of an accusation or bitterness in his voice. "It's not as simple as good guys versus bad guys, Rachel."

That statement of Kurt's seemed to play on an endless loop in her mind for the rest of the afternoon. _It's not as simple as good guys versus bad guys_. What could he have possibly meant by that? She knew of only one way to find out.

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**A/N: thanks for reading. Please, please review.**


	3. Icy Initiation

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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**Chapter Two: Icy Initiation**

Rachel bounded down the empty hallway with a spring in her step, still riding the high from her glee club audition the previous afternoon. Mr Schuester and the rest of New Directions had been blown away by her rendition of _On My Own_, after which, they'd promptly welcomed her into the fold. Despite glee club's low ranking on the high school totem pole, Rachel was sure that _this_ was her opportunity to be part of something special and, as her father's had always told her, being a part of something special makes _you_ special. Already, she felt like she was finding her feet at McKinley.

With her personal issues all but in order, there was only one thing left troubling Rachel. Her conversation with Kurt was still weighing heavily on her mind and she was determined to fix that. The relentless terrorization of the glee club perpetrated by the popular kids was, in her opinion, completely unacceptable. Determined to make sure it stopped, Rachel headed towards the boys' locker room in search of her best friend. Even though Kurt said there was nothing more Finn could do to keep him safe at school, she was sure there must be _something_. She was also sure that Sam wouldn't give up that easily, especially once he found out she'd joined New Directions.

Not yet feeling bold enough to venture into uncharted territory, Rachel waited for Sam to finish his morning weight lifting session outside the locker room so that she could catch him on his way to class. She was so engrossed in her game of Angry Birds that she failed to notice two burly boys eyeing her up from down the hallway. By the time she looked up from her phone, they were standing less than five feet from her. She had to crane her neck to see their faces, they were that tall, and they must have each weighed more than double her meager ninety pounds. Anyone else would have felt intimidated by their proximity and the way they were hulking over her, but Rachel refused to give them that satisfaction. "Can I help you with something?" she queried, her tone slightly haughty.

"We heard you auditioning for Schue and his merry band of losers," one of the boys sneered. Rachel vaguely recognized him from her homeroom; his name was Azimio, thought. She didn't know who his sidekick was, though. "Do you know what we do to glee freaks?"

Azimio's question only fueled her ire over the maltreatment of her glee mates. Sliding her phone into her back pocket, she straightened up to her full height so to answer. "Oh, I know _very well_ what you do to 'glee freaks'," she replied, waggling her fingers in the air quotes gesture. "But the difference is, I'm _not_ scared of you and I won't stand for it."

They seemed taken aback by her confrontational tone. Obviously they weren't used to being challenged by the so-call losers of McKinley. Rachel felt truly proud of herself for breaking with the status quo.

However, her pride quickly morphed into horror when both boys pulled super-size _Big Quench_ cartons from behind their backs. Kurt had already described to her the pure humiliation of having a slushie thrown in your face and the way the corn syrup seeped through every layer of clothing, all the way down to your underwear. "Then I guess you know what your initiation to Loserville entails?" the other boy asked as a sadistic smirk spread across his face.

Rachel attempted to shield herself against the icy deluge with her arms, but it was no good. Several kilograms of colored ice hit her square in the face, causing her to stumble backwards in shock. Kurt hadn't been exaggerating when he said it felt like being bitch-slapped by an iceberg. It was so _cold_ that her skin prickled and the artificial flavoring was already burning her eyes.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a booming, masculine voice echoed through the hallway. "Karofsky," he yelled, infusing the single word with immeasurable rage. Rachel couldn't really see what was happening because her eyelashes were pretty much stuck together, but the shouting was followed by the rapid squeaking of sneakers against the linoleum floor and a metallic crash. She could only assume that her savior had shoved one of her attackers into the lockers. "I've beaten the crap out of you before and I won't hesitate to do it again."

"Whatever. Which team are you playing for? You're no fucking better than those losers in _Homo Explosion._"

Rachel was about to launch into a tirade about the boy's blatant homophobia, but she was abruptly cut off by a growl and then another slam. "You better get the hell out of here before I let you taste my fist," _masculine voice_ warned. "Next time you won't be so fucking lucky."

At that, all that could be heard was Azimio and Karofsky's snickering as they skulked off down the corridor. Hopefully with their tails between their legs, Rachel thought.

Before she had chance to dwell on what had just happened any further, a large, warm hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her into the boys' locker room. She still couldn't properly see the face of the guy who had rushed to her defense, but she could tell that he was very tall and lean, with dark hair.

"I'm going to help you wash the slushie out of your hair and eyes, if that's okay?" he asked tentatively. Rachel found it adorable how uncertain of himself he was, especially when juxtaposed with how assertive he'd just been with her attackers.

By the time they reached his locker, Rachel's vision had almost returned to normal and she could see that her nameless rescuer was really handsome. His eyes were an unusual shade of amber, his nose and cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles, and his jaw was rimmed with the barest hint of stubble.

"Uh, yes. That's fine," she stuttered as he pulled two white towels from the locker, before continuing to lead her towards the bathroom at the back of the room. Rachel had been so consumed with humiliation at having a slushie thrown in her face, and then too busy gazing at Mr Handsome, she'd barely noticed the smell of feet or the fact that they were in a room she had no business being in. There were_ jock straps_ lying around, for goodness sake.

Her companion seemed to catch onto the source of her tension. "There's no one in here. It's fine," he reassured her. "Now, just sit here."

Rachel followed his instructions, sitting down in the chair he'd set down next to the sink, as he turned on the hot water.

"Getting slushied hurts like a bitch," he said sympathetically as he started dabbing her face with a warm was cloth. "I remember the first time it happened to me. I swear to God, I thought I was going to go blind."

Rachel stared at him dumbfounded, taking in the red and white letterman jacket he was donning. "You?... You've been slushied?" He nodded in affirmation. "But you're... you're... _a jock_."

He laughed at her as he continued to wipe away the sticky corn syrup. "Yeah. You'd be surprised, but it's not just glee kids who get slushie facials."

If he'd told her that the AV club or debate club were also victims of the slushie war, she wouldn't have been surprised at all. But she never expected in a million years that jocks and popular kids would be on the receiving end. Maybe this was what Kurt meant when he told her it wasn't a simple case of good guys versus bad guys at this school.

"I think that's your face done. Do you have any spare clothes? I can always drive you home if you need me to."

"Uh, that's okay. I'll ask my friend Kurt to take me," she responded nervously. Even though the prospect of spending time with the handsome _and_ chivalrous boy who had come to her defense appealed to her, she didn't want to put him out any more than she already had.

"I actually drove Kurt today, so he doesn't have his car."

All of a sudden, things started to click into place. Kurt had told her that his brother was an outcast among his fellow jocks and that he was fervidly averse to slushying, both of which she'd seen evidence of not ten minutes previous. "Oh. You must be Finn," she stated enthusiastically, earning a crooked smile from him. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Rachel Berry."

Finn bowed his head slightly to focus on some non-existent mark on the floor, whilst raising his hand to rub self-consciously at the back of his neck. "Uh, I... I actually already figured that out."

"How so?" Rachel asked curiously. She'd only just arrived at McKinley the day before and they hadn't met, so it seemed strange that he would already know about her, unless Kurt had talked about her.

"I haven't see you before," he confessed, still looking a little uncomfortable. "And I... Uh... I would have remembered your face."

It sounded a lot like he was paying her a compliment, but she couldn't be sure, so Rachel tried her best to temper the grin that was threatening to spread across her face.

Thankfully, the tense moment was interrupted by Finn's ringing cellphone. Since she was standing closer than he was to the bench he'd left it on, Rachel grabbed the phone and passed it to him. She didn't mean for her eyes to land on the lit-up screen and she certainly hadn't expect to recognize the caller ID (hell, she barely knew eight people at McKinley). But she did recognize the name of the person calling him and it sent a shiver down her spine. _Santana Lopez_.

Finn didn't have the same response at all. He took one look at his cellphone, sighed in frustration, and disconnected the call without even answering it. "She can wait," he said with a smile.

Rachel couldn't have suppressed her interest even if she'd tried, so she didn't bother. "Is she your girlfriend or something?"

The chuckle that escaped his lips was good-humored and oddly comforting. "No, absolutely not. God have mercy on the poor soul who dares to date Santana. She's just my Spanish tutor."

Rachel nodded in understanding but, before she had chance to ask anymore questions about his relationship with Santana Lopez, the door to the locker room burst open and a large, middle-aged woman with curly, cropped hair entered. Her eyes widened in surprise when they landed on Rachel. "Hudson. Did you forget the rule about bringing girls into my locker room?"

"No, Coach Beiste," Finn responded nervously.

"Because I expressly remember telling you all that I will _not_ allow girls in my locker room. Except me, of course."

Rachel's gaze shifted back and forth between Finn and the coach as she pondered whether to get involved in the discussion. Never one to miss an opportunity to give her side of the story, she cleared her throat to get their attention. "Excuse me, Coach Beiste, is it? Finn was just helping me to clean up after I was brutally attacked with disgusting, empty-calorie-laden drinks by a couple of _your_ football players. If anyone should be getting punished for my being in here, it should be them."

Satisfied with her testimony, Rachel folded her arms across her chest and waited for Coach Beiste's response. The coach scrutinized both Rachel and Finn to figure out whether the story could be trusted. After a moment, she said, "you're off the hook, but just this one time. You give me the name of those football players, Finn, and I'll see that they get punished for it."

Rachel smiled at the positive outcome. Perhaps Kurt had been wrong in his assumption that there was no way of ending the barbarism the glee club was subjected to every single day, especially with people like Coach Beiste on their side.

"You ought to be glad it was Finn I caught you in here with," Coach Beiste said directly to Rachel. "If it had been Puckerman, there's absolutely no way I would have believed he was just helping you to clean off after a slushie attack. Now, get gone."

On her way out, Rachel spared a sideways glance at Finn. He winked at her in a way she knew meant _"thanks for saving my ass,"_ even though she'd done nothing but tell the truth.

All through homeroom, then Calculus, French, English, and pretty much the entire school day, Rachel couldn't get Finn out of her head. More specifically, she couldn't forget the phone call he'd received - but not picked up - from Santana Lopez. She was inclined to believe him when he said she was his Spanish tutor, but she couldn't help her suspicions that there was more to their relationship than _just_ that. Sam had told her, literally less than a week ago, that getting involved with Santana always led to disaster of one kind or another.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**A/N: Finchel won't be the main focus of this story. Their relationship only really matters insofar as it is going to create conflict between Rachel, Quinn and maybe (*cough* definitely *cough*) some other people. ****If you want to read an actual Finchel fic, you could check out my other story, _A Lesson in US History_. If you hate Finchel, I'm sorry. And if you are just here for Faberry or Pezberry... It's coming soon AND IT'S GOING TO BE AWESOME.**

**Plus, we get to meet one of the Unholy Trinity next chapter. Any guesses who?**

**(Please review if possible. It really helps me to know what people like and don't like about my stories.)**


	4. The Keeper of Secrets

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee.**

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**Chapter Three: The Keeper of Secrets**

After gathering up her binder and textbook for Chem class, Rachel slammed her locker door shut and turned to face the direction of the labs. To her surprise, standing right in front of her, was her best friend. "Jesus Christ, Sam, you scared the hell out of me," she chastised him through her erratic breathing. Sam was wearing a serious expression, with his lips pursed and eyes narrowed at her. It looked out of place on his usually soft features and contrasted starkly with his laid back attitude, so Rachel knew that whatever he was upset about was important. "Uh, are you okay? You seem agitated," she said uncertainly.

Rather than answering her question, Sam posed one of his own. "How come you didn't tell me you got slushied?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed in slight relief. As far as Rachel was concerned, the issue had been solved - Finn had given Azimio and Karofsky a stern warning, and Coach Beiste was seeing to it that they received appropriate punishment - so there was really nothing for Sam to be upset about. "Did Finn tell you about that? I was kind of hoping he'd keep it to himself."

"It doesn't really matter who told me. The point is, _you_ didn't. I only found out last night after football practice, because Puck and I had to scrape Finn off the pavement after Azimio and Karofsky jumped him."

Rachel's eyes widened in shock. "What? Why would they do that?"

"They said Finn ratted 'em out to Coach Beiste, who suspended them for three games." Sam scrutinized her suspiciously, so she decided to at least have the decency to bow her head guiltily. "But that doesn't sound like something Finn would do to me. He's more of a '_let's take this into the back alley and we'll sort it there_' kind of guy."

Unable to handle his accusing tone any longer, Rachel interrupted. "Okay, okay. _I_ was the one who told Coach Beiste about the slushie incident... But I didn't mean for Finn to get hurt, I swear."

Sam flashed her a sympathetic smile and slung his arm over her shoulder. Clearly he wasn't too angry over her misguided attempt to deal with Karofsky and Azimio. She'd just been so eager to stop Finn from getting into trouble for having a girl in the locker room and to ensure that her attackers received some sort of retribution for their actions, she hadn't fully considered the consequences. She suddenly realized that Kurt was right... There was no easy way to stop the bullying. Apparently even being banned from playing football wasn't enough of an incentive to stop picking on people, since Karofsky and Azimio had immediately resorted to violence to solve that problem as well. She really did feel bad for Finn.

"Do you think I should bake him some banana bread, or something, to apologize?" she asked Sam.

He looked at her with a thoughtful expression on his face. "That's very sweet of you, Rachel, and I'm sure he'd appreciate it... But, no, I don't. I think it would be in your best interest to just stay away from Finn as much as possible. He's a good guy, but he has a complicated history with some people at this school. You'd be better off not getting involved," he said firmly.

Of course, that cryptic piece of information only peaked her interest in Finn Hudson further. It seemed rather hypocritical of him to warn her against spending time with Finn, considering the fact Sam was friends with him and _they_ hung out all the time. She suddenly realized that Sam had spent a lot of time telling her who to avoid, without really explaining why.

She wanted answers.

Deciding to put her questions about Finn on the back burner for the time being, she returned to a much more pressing issue that had been plaguing her almost continually for the previous two days. "What do you know about Santana Lopez?" she asked after a brief lull in the conversation.

Her best friend looked taken aback by the sudden change in topic, his eyes widening minutely. "I told you before. She's mean and you should avoid her," he answered vaguely. Rachel huffed in an obvious display of dissatisfaction with his answer. He'd already told her that Santana was mean - she'd heard him loud and clear - but she wanted specifics.

The pressure of having Rachel glower at him eventually became too much for Sam and he sighed in defeat. "I've only spoken to her a few times, so I don't know a lot," he admitted. "But I _do_ know that she enjoys meddling in other people's business. If someone has a secret, she knows about it. And what's worse, she uses those secrets to manipulate people until she no longer has anything to gain by keeping it quiet."

Rachel had the distinct feeling that there was more her best friend wanted to say, but unfortunately the bell rang signalling the beginning of the next period and they were headed in different directions. The rest of her questions could wait until they were alone again.

...

Thankful that the grueling Cheerios practice was over and she'd been able to escape before Coach Sue approached her _again_ to complain about her breast augmentation, Santana pulled onto the driveway of the Hummel-Hudson household. Even though tutoring Finn was sometimes an arduous task - he wasn't the most gifted linguist - Santana actually kind of enjoyed their sessions. At the very least, her spending time with Finn rubbed Quinn up the wrong way, and that was something she took great pleasure in.

Santana put her car into park and made her way to the front door. As always, Finn left her waiting on the front porch for a really long time after she rang the doorbell. She used to think the reason it took him so long to get to the door was because he was busy eating, or sleeping, or masturbating, or doing some other important task, but she eventually realized he was being slow on purpose just to wind her up. By the time he opened the door, she was staring intently at the ticking second hand of her watch and tapping her foot impatiently against the welcome mat. "Well, hello double-stuff," she greeted him, _almost_ politely. "So nice that you could finally join me. Now, are you going to let me in?"

Finn's responding smile was tight and disingenuous as he stepped aside and held out his hand to indicate that she should enter. Making her way through to the kitchen, Santana babbled on about her new Cheerios uniform and how the deep v-neck would provide him with the perfect view of her ample cleavage whilst he was on the pitch. The topic of conversation wasn't getting much of a response from Finn, but she was sure that he'd give in to temptation eventually. It had only been a few weeks since she agreed to tutor him and he was already becoming less hostile towards her. If it took her another six weeks to get him out of his pants, she wasn't going to complain about it. She enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

"Why don't we just get to work, Santana? The sooner we do it, the sooner I can get back to kicking Puck's ass at _Halo_ and you can go back to manicuring your claws... or whatever it is you do in your free time," Finn quipped as he set himself down at the dining table in front of his open Spanish textbook.

Santana stared at him curiously, wondering where his balls had suddenly sprouted from. Although Finn was never particularly warm or friendly towards her, he never really gave her any attitude either. He was far too mild-mannered for that. "Well, isn't someone in a bad mood today," she commented with an amused smirk.

Finn sighed and dragged a hand through his messy hair. "I'm sorry, Santana," he said quickly. "It's just been a crappy week. But it's not your fault and, really, I should be thanking you for doing this. It's not like you _have_ to tutor me."

It always amazed Santana how genuinely _decent_ Finn was. He had every reason to dislike her; she frequently addressed him with insulting nicknames, meddled in his personal business, and made unsubtle (unwanted) advances on him. Yet, even though she was snappy with pretty much everyone all the time, _he_ was the one apologizing to her for getting slightly annoyed just _once_. "Is there anything _I_ can help you with?" she asked, trailing a finger lightly across his shoulder blades. She was _trying_ to be helpful, but there was still a slightly flirtatious lilt to her voice that Finn didn't miss.

He eyeballed her in a silent warning for her to back off. "Yes, actually. You can help me with these Spanish verbs. I still don't understand why there's so many of them."

Realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with Finn for the time being, Santana sank down into the chair next to him with a defeated sigh and pulled his open textbook towards her to see what he was looking at. After explaining the imperfect tense at least three times, she advised Finn to try one of the revision exercises. It took him far longer than she anticipated, but she tried to be patient with him.

About seven minutes into watching him obsess over one conjugation question, she became bored and resorted back to her ordinary tactics. "You know why you can't concentrate?" she asked knowingly as she rose up from her seat. "It's because you're so tense." Finn bristled palpably as she placed her hands on his shoulders and started to rub. "Now, why don't you just _relax_ and allow 'Tana to help you relieve all that stress and anxiety," she whispered into his ear, her voice husky and heavy with lust.

"I... I'm not interested, Santana," Finn stuttered nervously. A deep red hue suffused his cheeks and he started to shuffle uncomfortably beneath her hands.

Not to be deterred, Santana bent down to wrap both her arms around his waist from behind and started scratching her nails up his jean-covered thighs. "There's a bulge in your pants that tells me otherwise."

Finn gulped. "Wouldn't it be breaking one of Quinn's insane girl rules, or something?"

His reasons were becoming progressively weaker and Santana knew that it was only a matter of time before he gave into her feminine wiles. "That didn't stop us last time, did it?"

At the reminder of their previous tryst, his resolve returned and he gently pushed her hands away from him. "I told you before, that was a mistake. I was drunk, and you were hot and easy."

"You weren't _that_ drunk," she countered. "And I'm still hot and easy, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Maybe that's not what I'm looking for anymore."

Santana scoffed at the ridiculousness of his statement. In her experience, _all_ teenage boys wanted to sleep with the hot cheerleader and she was practically offering it up to him on a silver platter. Still, the sincerity in his eyes was indisputable. Which meant one of two things: either he was gay, which she knew for a fact was not the case, or... He had his eye on someone else. She smirked wickedly at the prospect of uncovering a secret. "So, who is she?" she pried, paying no regard to standard social etiquette.

"Who is who?" Despite his best efforts to feign innocence, the gassy infant expression he was sporting gave him away. A career in acting certainly wasn't in his cards.

"Don't play dumb with me, Sasquatch. Who's the chick you're banging?"

At that moment, the front door swung open and Kurt bellowed down the hallway that he had arrived home, effectively cutting their conversation short. Finn tended to end their tutoring sessions when his stepbrother got back from glee rehearsal, and today was no exception. If anything, he was even more determined to get her out of the house quickly, presumably because he wanted to avoid answering her question. He hustled her to the door and barely managed to say thank you and goodbye before he practically slammed it in her face. Santana stood stock-still on the porch for a moment, shocked by just how strongly he'd reacted. It only made things all the more clear to her: Finn had it bad for some mystery girl. And she was determined to find out _who_.

* * *

**I just want to give an extra special thanks to xxiluvnileynjoejxx, who has been so supportive of this story so far. To tell the truth, I've been wondering whether to continue writing because my readers don't seem to care much for this story, but you've given me the encouragement I needed to get this chapter written. Thank you also to my other reviewers. It means so much to me to read your feedback.  
**

**If you do want me to continue writing, please, please, please review/alert/favorite. I can't stress how much it encourages me to update quicker.**

**So... What do you all think of Santana?**


	5. Sneaky Hot Knee Socks

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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**Chapter Four: Sneaky Hot Knee Socks**

Rachel returned to McKinley on Monday morning feeling revitalized and ready to go. She'd made it through her first week of high school with only one incident, which she considered to be a triumph given the double target she had on her back for being both the new kid and a member of the glee club. Furthermore, she was finding her classes to be relatively straightforward, which left her plenty of time to fill out her resumé with extracurricular activities. She was just looking at some of the sign-up sheets pinned to the student notice board when Kurt sidled up beside her.

"So, are you signing up for the school musical?" he asked eagerly. "I hear the spot for Maria is wide open."

She worried her lower lip in between her teeth as she thought about it. "I don't know. Do you think I'm good enough?"

Kurt stared at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. "Of course you're good enough. Your singing voice is spectacular." Rachel smiled as he pulled a pen out of his bag and handed it to her. "Besides, I need your moral support. The guy playing Tony is this really cute senior, Blaine Anderson. I think it'd be a little controversial for me to audition for the role of Maria, so I need you to do it... You know, to make sure none of those awful Cheerio bitches end up getting the part and macking on the guy of my dreams."

She rolled her eyes liberally. Of course Kurt had an ulterior motive for encouraging her. "I can't imagine any of the Cheerios trying out for _West Side Story_, Kurt. Isn't it kind of uncool? Besides, if this Blaine guy is actually gay, he isn't going to be interested in any of the Cheerios."

"Firstly, no. The school musical is _nowhere near_ as uncool as glee, so some of the more musically inclined popular kids like to get involved. And, secondly, Blaine _is_ gay, but I still don't want to see him making out with Brittany Pierce. So... _Please_ can you do it? I'm auditioning for Officer Krupke, so we can go together."

Maria _was_ one of Rachel's dream roles and some musical theatre experience _would_ look good on her college applications next year, so she figured there was no harm in at least trying. Besides, she was kind of interested in meeting this Blaine guy that Kurt seemed so enamored with. She was already falling into the best friend position in Kurt's life and, from what she'd seen of _One Tree Hill_ and _Gossip Girl_, it seemed talking about boys was a big part of that. Rachel signed her name in the column labelled 'Maria' and took a gold star sticker out of her binder, placing it next to her name, before handing the pen back to Kurt.

After signing himself up, Kurt looped his arm through Rachel's and they started walking towards their first class. "So, which popular kids audition for the school musical?" Rachel asked, interested to know who she might have to forge a working relationship. Thankfully she couldn't see Azimio or Karofsky singing and dancing along to _West Side Story_.

"Well, I think Mike wants Riff and Puck says he's going to go for something. I've been trying to get Finn to audition but he's all tied up with football and trying to get noticed by recruiters. And, like I said before, Brittany sometimes does the school musical."

From what Kurt had told her, Mike and Puck both sounded like they were okay. At least they weren't involved in the daily dumpster tossing and slushying of glee club members. Rachel had heard stories about Puck bullying people during his freshman year, but he apologized to Kurt and stopped victimizing the glee kids shortly after Finn's mom married Kurt's dad. Apparently any brother of Finn's was also a brother to Puck.

"Oh... And I heard from a reliable source that Santana Lopez is a shoo-in for Anita."

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. Sam had spent the last week or so warning her to stay away from the supposedly evil Latina, but now there was a viable reason why she might actually _have_ to spend time with her. Even though she'd been a little nervous about signing up just minutes before, she wasn't going to pull out of an audition simply to avoid someone. It wasn't really Rachel's style to let mean girls - or anyone else, for that matter - dictate her life. And, though she wouldn't admit it to anyone, least of all Sam, maybe there was still a small part of her that wanted to find out more about the mysterious Santana Lopez.

...

Brittany was late for school _again_. Santana assumed she'd gotten caught up with something Lord Tubbington related or forgotten that it was Monday, so she decided to text her blonde best friend to make sure that she was okay and continued to wait next to her locker. Whilst there, her attention was drawn to an unfamiliar girl standing in front of the student notice board. The girl was short - around five foot three, she guessed - with very dark hair, a slightly larger than average nose, and an olive skin tone. Her outfit was pretty hideous and somehow managed to make her look like a grandma _and_ a toddler at the same time. But, looking past the argyle sweater, penny loafers and knee high socks, she was actually kind of... _hot _in a sneaky way. The smooth expanse of lean leg that was showing between her socks and her very short skirt was highly appealing and already had Santana's mouth watering with lust. This girl certainly had potential.

A mohawked head in her peripheral vision brought Santana back from her wandering, lust-filled thoughts. Noah Puckerman was _exactly_ the person she needed to talk to, especially now that she had two mysteries to solve. "Hey, Puckerman," she greeted him, aggressively pulling him into a nearby side corridor on his way past.

"Hello, Satan," he returned with a waggish smirk. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Puck and Santana had always had a love-hate type relationship, even when they were dating. They pretended not to like one another most of the time, addressing each other with mean nicknames and otherwise ignoring one another in public, but Santana knew in her heart that Puck was one of the only people she could trust at McKinley High.

"What do you know about Lady Hummel's new munchkin friend?" she asked bluntly, peering round the corner to see the small girl writing her name on one of the sign up sheets.

A knowing glimmer illuminated Puck's eyes as he followed her gaze. "Ah, Rachel Berry. She's new. A junior. Glee kid. Sam's best friend. I wouldn't have thought she'd be your type, though."

Santana raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows questioningly. "How do you know? Have you slept with her yet?"

Puck rolled his eyes at her demanding tone. Santana always had seen herself as the Queen Bee - the one who had control of everyone and everything, and always had to know everybody's business - even though Quinn officially held that title at McKinley. "_No_, I haven't slept with her... And I'm not going to."

"What do you mean you're _not going to_ sleep with her? May I remind you of our little agreement?" she whispered quietly enough that no one else would be able to hear.

"I haven't forgotten," he said and then paused to contemplate whether or not he should explain _why_ he wouldn't be trying to seduce Rachel Berry. Santana was eyeballing him expectantly and he knew she wasn't going to let up any time soon, so he huffed in defeat. "I'd be violating the bro code by fucking her, Santana. Whatever the terms of _our_ agreement, the bro code supersedes it. I'm sorry."

Her eyes visibly darkened with rage, indicating that she was only about ten seconds away from launching into a full-on _Snix outburst_. He could see the words _I'm going to go all Lima Heights_ forming on her lips, so he covered his crotch protectively with his hands. After a moment, though, her anger seemed to dissipate and was replaced by an entirely different emotion. Curiosity. "_Wait_. If sleeping with Polly Pocket would be considered violation of the 'bro code'," she said, emphasizing the stupidity of such a concept by adding the inverted comma hand gesture, "then that must mean one of your loser friends is into her."

Not wanting to give anything else away, Puck shrugged noncommittally. Unfortunately it was near enough impossible to pull the wool over Santana's eyes. "It's that Pastry Bag Finn, isn't it? I _knew_ he had the hots for someone."

Out of loyalty to his best friend, Puck was determined not to verbally confirm her suspicions, but he couldn't help being a terrible actor. She could tell that she was correct by the interesting shade of red his face turned and the way he rubbed his hand through his mohawk.

It all made sense to Santana now. She'd heard from some of the football guys that Finn had lost it when he caught Azimio and Karofsky gifting the new girl with a slushie facial. Apparently he'd also taken the rap when said new girl told Coach Beiste about the incident, which earned him a beating in the parking lot. Sure, Finn was a good guy who liked to do the right thing, but the only other person Santana could imagine him going to those lengths for was his brother.

Without even realizing it, Puck had given her all the information she'd needed. She'd found out who Porcelain's new friend was and, at the very same time, she'd discovered Finn's mystery crush. Of course, it was kind of annoying that Puck and Finn's stupid 'bros over hoes' bullshit was getting in her way, but she had the decided advantage of being much smarter than both of them. She knew _exactly_ how she was going to remove that obstacle... And she was going to bring out the big guns to do it.

* * *

**A/N: I've been asked a couple of times whether this is a Faberry story or a Finchel one, so at this point, I'd just like to clarify. It's not really either; it's more of a general Glee story where all of the characters' are involved with one another in some capacity. So it will include both Faberry and Finchel interaction, as well as Brittana, Pezberry, Klaine, Fuinn, Quam, Puckleberry, Finntana, Evanberry, Hummelberry, and other pairings. There will be some romantic undertones with some of the pairings but, ultimately, I have no intention of making this a love story. There will be no intense smut or fluff and, although you might not be able to see it yet, romantic interaction will only be included where it furthers the plot in some way. The plot is, like I said, somewhat inspired by Mean Girls and mainly involves Rachel and Quinn in a 'frenemies' type capacity. I know I haven't introduced Quinn yet, but I assure you she's going to come in with a bang _very_ soon and then be present right until the end. I already know what the last chapter is going to be and, without ruining too much, I will say that Rachel and Quinn's relationship is the focus. ****I hope you all continue to read. I honestly think that if you enjoyed early seasons of Glee and like the movie Mean Girls, as well as my style of writing, this could be a story you enjoy. **

**So, any guesses as to what Puck and Santana's 'agreement' might be? Or what Santana has planned? It's all slightly twisted, I'll tell you that much.  
****Thanks for reading and please remember to review/alert. The encouragement really helps!**


	6. Stick To Your Own Kind

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Song lyrics are from _A Boy Like That_, written by Stephen Sondheim.  
**

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**Chapter Five: Stick To Your Own Kind**

Quinn and Brittany were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria, discussing the new Cheerios routine they were going to be putting that afternoon. Coach Sylvester was a perfectionist and it had started to rub off on Quinn. She could barely even stomach her lunch, she was that nervous about remembering the steps _and_ teaching them to the other girls, so she just kept pushing a piece of mangled lettuce around her plate. It didn't seem like Brittany had the same concerns, since she was scarfing down a mountain of tater tots completely carelessly. How Brittany managed to maintain her stunning physique eating like that, Quinn would never understand. It certainly didn't work for her.

The sound of Santana's raspy voice stirred Quinn from her thoughts. "Brit. You might want to slow down your eating," the Latina advised as she sat down at the table with her own tray. "You're going to give yourself heartburn."

"Hey, 'Tana," Quinn greeted her other best friend. "Where have you been? We waited for you after class but you never showed."

"Oh, you know... I just had some business to take care of," she answered cryptically. Quinn didn't bother questioning her further. She guessed Santana was busy hooking up with Puck in the janitor's closet and she _really_ did not want to hear about that whilst she was eating. "Did you know there's a new girl in our grade?" Santana asked, effectively changing the subject of the conversation.

"I did," Brittany chirped enthusiastically. "She's in my phys ed class. She sings in the shower and it sounds like angels."

"Why am I supposed to care?" Quinn asked, sounding particularly bored. It wasn't like this new girl had signed up to join the Cheerios or celibacy club and they didn't share any classes, so she could probably manage to get through the school year without having any contact with her whatsoever. In fact, she wouldn't even have known this girl existed if it wasn't for Santana.

"Well, rumor has it, she's caught the eye of your gentle giant of an ex-boyfriend," Santana revealed, looking far too pleased with herself. Sometimes Quinn wondered whether her best friend got some sort of thrill out of upsetting her. She generally attributed it to jealousy. Ever since Quinn had been promoted to Cheerios captain (and Santana had been demoted to the bottom of the pyramid), Santana had been acting like a real bitch. "I just thought you'd like to know."

Quinn threw her fork down onto her plate as tears sprung to her eyes. It had been nearly a year since her break up with Finn and all the accompanying drama, but it still stung a little bit. She didn't want him back or anything, but she didn't want anyone else dating him either. People at McKinley were supposed to _respect_ her and that meant keeping their paws off her exes. "What's her name?" Quinn asked through gritted teeth.

"Rachel Berry," Santana replied immediately. "She's in glee club and is best friends with Sam Evans."

Finn's inability to live up to his potential had been a constant annoyance for Quinn whilst they were dating and now, wanting to date someone so far below him on the high school food chain, he'd reached an embarrassing new low. The worst part was that it seemed Sam - the most eligible bachelor in school - was heading in the same direction. As Coach Sue always said, high schools need hierarchy and the students need to know their place. It sounded like Rachel Berry was overreaching and needed to be reminded of hers... Right at the bottom.

"I take it you've done your research?" Quinn asked. Santana always had been the best at sleuthing. They were a great team in that sense: Santana would collect people's secrets and Quinn would figure out how best to hurt them with it.

"Of course. From what I can gather, it's her dream to become a Broadway actress. She has her heart set on some fancy performing arts school in New York and her first step in her quest for stardom is the lead role in the school's production of _West Side Story_, alongside yours truly."

Quinn had to give this girl some credit for at least having actual aspirations. For most Lima residents, dreams consisted of going to the local community college and getting a part time job at Breadstix or the Lima Bean. She'd never met anyone who wanted to move to New York. In a way, it made the prospect of knocking her down a peg or two all the more appealing, if slightly more difficult.

"I know exactly what I'm going to do," Quinn proclaimed to her two most loyal friends, a sly smirk spreading across her face. Santana and Brittany stared at her in awe as they waited for her to explain the plan of action.

Rachel Berry would rue the day she crossed Quinn Fabray.

...

Rachel sat alongside Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie in the front row of the auditorium, observing the auditions for _West Side Story_ in absolute horror. As far as she was aware, no one else was auditioning for the part of Maria, which she considered to be a good thing. Her own rendition of _I Feel Pretty_ had garnered significant praise from Sandy Ryerson, the school musical's director. So, she wasn't concerned about anyone stealing her part, especially given the quality of the auditions she'd seen so far; she just couldn't bare listening to one more tone deaf, delusional teenager slaughter another Sondheim classic.

After another horrific rendition of _Maria_ by a guy that Artie referred to as 'Stoner Brett' (Kurt was right; Blaine definitely had that part in the bag), Mr Ryerson called the next auditioner out onto the stage. A gorgeous Latina with a perfect, pin-up body walked confidently to center stage. Rachel instinctively knew that this girl was the infamous Santana Lopez. Being in her presence actually made Rachel feel quite nervous, even though they were separated by several meters and Santana probably couldn't see her for the glaring spotlights that illuminated the stage.

"I'm Santana Lopez," she introduced herself, confirming Rachel's suspicions, "and I'll be auditioning for the role of Anita, singing _A Boy Like That_."

Santana turned around and told the band to begin playing. As the first strains of music echoed through the auditorium, she took a tentative step towards the microphone.

_A boy like that,_  
_Who'd kill your brother._  
_Forget that boy,_  
_And find another._

Her voice was so unique and soulful, with a stunning raspy quality to it. It sent a shiver of excitement down Rachel's spine. From what she'd heard from Sam, Santana sounded exactly like any other mean high school cheerleader, with no emotional depth or hidden facets. But the girl onstage in front of her was singing with such passion that Rachel knew that assessment couldn't possibly be correct.

_One of your own kind,_  
_Stick to your own kind._

If she hadn't known any better, Rachel could have sworn that Santana was staring directly at her, singing the lyrics in some sort of thinly veiled warning. Her intense gaze was almost catlike; sly, mysterious and almost hypnotic. It was hardly surprising that so many of the boys at McKinley High had allegedly been _involved_ with her. She probably could have enticed even the most virtuous person into bed with just one look.

_A boy like that,_  
_Will give you sorrow. _  
_You'll meet another boy tomorrow._  
_One of your own kind,_  
_Stick to your own kind._

Santana was by far the best potential Anita they'd seen all afternoon. There was no way anyone else was going to get the part and, even though the thought of spending so many hours practicing with her should have be terrifying to Rachel, she was actually really excited. For a while, she'd thought that Mr Ryerson was going to struggle to find an Anita capable of keeping up with her, especially since Mercedes and Tina had both decided against auditioning for the role (being New Directions' co-captains and having Sectionals to prepare for meant they had little time to dedicate to the school musical).

As the final notes rung out, Rachel rose to her feet to applaud the girl. Mr Ryerson was also clapping and shouting "bravo!" at the stage, but Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie were just staring at her in utter disbelief, like she was some sort of traitor. Rachel couldn't help it, though. Even if Santana was a complete bitch, as an artist, Rachel respected her talent. The Latina curtsied repeatedly, reveling in the limelight.

"Splendid. That was wonderful, Miss Lopez," Mr Ryerson said after the applause died down. "I'll be posting the final cast list on the student notice board this Friday. Look out for your name."

After that, Santana thanked Mr Ryerson for his time (which seemed awfully polite from someone who was supposed to be such an evil witch, Rachel thought) and headed off into the wings of the stage, taking one final glance in Rachel's direction.

Everyone that had signed up for the musical had auditioned and all they had to do was wait. Rachel didn't understand why Mr Ryerson was leaving it until Friday to decide. It was quite clear to her already who should be cast in each part. Waiting any longer than necessary was a waste of valuable rehearsal time as far as she was concerned.

Just as everyone was exiting the auditorium, a delicate - but deliberate - cough alerted them to the presence of someone else on stage. Rachel immediately turned around to see a petite girl, wearing a Cheerios uniform, standing slightly off center stage. She appeared almost angelic under the bright lights, with her pale porcelain skin and her halo of golden-blonde hair tied into a topknot.

"I'm here to audition," she stated, looking a little nervous under the gaze of six expectant musical theatre connoisseurs.

Mr Ryerson flipped through his audition sign up sheets. "Did you put your name down? I can't see it, Miss Fabray."

Miss _Fabray_? The timid-looking girl on the stage was Quinn Fabray, Queen Bee of McKinley High, captain of the Cheerios, and president of the celibacy club. Rachel couldn't believe it. Of course, she was just as beautiful as she'd expected - perhaps even _more_ beautiful - but she just didn't look like the vindictive bitch Sam had made her out to be. In fact, her mannerisms made her seem... _vulnerable_, almost.

"Erm, no, I didn't," Quinn Fabray confessed. "But I was hoping you'd maybe allow me to perform anyway."

The director bit down on his bottom lip, carefully considering her request. "I suppose I can spare five minutes," he said, heading back towards his desk at the center of the auditorium. Rachel and her friends followed suit, heading towards the nearest row of seats, all thoroughly intrigued by Quinn's sudden eagerness to participate in the school musical. When Kurt had mentioned that some of the popular kids liked to get involved, he hadn't mentioned anything about Quinn, just Santana and Brittany. He wouldn't have _forgotten_ to mention her, since Quinn was quite clearly _unforgettable_, and he looks just as surprised as Rachel does.

"Which part will you be auditioning for?" Mr Ryerson asked.

A sweet smile appeared on her lips as she said the one word Rachel did _not_ want to hear: "Maria."

Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat as the band started to play the opening bars to _Somewhere_, only for Quinn to join in with a spectacularly fresh solo version of the song, which was traditionally performed as a duet by Tony and Maria. Unlike Rachel's voice, which was clear as a whistle and perfectly controlled, Quinn's vocals were a little rough around the edges, probably due to lack of professional training. Still, her tone was breathtaking and unlike anything Rachel had ever heard before.

Even so, she didn't feel particularly threatened. Quinn may have been twenty rungs higher up the high school social ladder, but that didn't make her tremulous contralto right for the part. She needed to be able to reach that elusive high A to play Maria, a near impossible feat for someone with the lowest standard female voice type to achieve with only three weeks of rehearsals.

No, Rachel was _certain_ she had Maria in the bag.

* * *

**So, we finally meet Quinn. What do you think? I know she seems like an irrational bitch right now, but be patient... There's always a reason and Quinn's story is a particularly tragic one, in my opinion. I can't wait to write more about her. Thanks for reading and if you could spare even 30 seconds to leave a short review, that would really make my day!**

**A/N: there still appears to be some confusion over the 'couples' of this story, so I'm going to try and put it as simply as possible. There is NO main couple. The main characters are Rachel and Quinn, the main focus of the story is their relationship, but it isn't a romantic one. As you can probably tell, the other two characters that will be most important in this story are Santana and Kurt. There will also be a healthy dose of Brittany, Finn, Puck and Sam. As for romantic relationships, like I said in my last A/N, various pairings will be touched upon to further the plot... But they won't take up a significant amount of space in the story or involve gratuitous fluff/smut. I'm not being evasive just to annoy people or waste their time. I just can't be more specific without completely ruining the plot of this story, which I'm not going to do. If you want to read an epic love story with lots of fluff and smut, this probably isn't for you. If you want to read a story with twists and turns and awesome friendships, lots of conflict, and an ultimately happy ending, it probably is. I've now exhausted everything I have to say on this topic, so I'm leaving it up to my readers to decide whether they want to continue with this. Either way, I really appreciate each and every one of you!**


	7. Chronic Lady Problems

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Chronic Lady Problems**

There was already a small crowd of students surrounding the notice board when Rachel and Kurt arrived at twelve noon on Friday to check the cast list. The top of Puck's head could be seen at the front of the groups and Rachel could just hear his voice, but had no idea what he was saying. Every now and again, a couple of people in the crowd would high five, fist bump or hug, clearly excited about the parts they had been allocated.

Blaine was the first to push himself back through the crush of bodies and he excitedly threw himself into Kurt's arms, causing him to stumble backwards in surprise. "I got Tony," the small boy whooped excitedly.

Rachel made a heart shape with her hands behind Blaine's back, eliciting an eye roll from Kurt. "That's fantastic, Blaine. You'll be the perfect Tony to my Maria," she said with a large smile on her face.

Before she could hear Blaine contradict her, Rachel had already started shoving her way through the crowd of people to see her name written on the cast list in black and white. She wanted to take a photo of it to send to her fathers. They were going to be so proud of her.

At the front of the gathering of people, Quinn and Santana were standing with their pinky fingers hooked together, looking at the notice board. Rachel couldn't see their faces, so she had no idea whether they were happy or disappointed. They were also far too tall for her to be able to read the list over their shoulders, so she cleared her throat to let them know she was trying to get through. The two girls turned around synchronously and both of them looked down at her with identical sneers on their faces. "Although this is deeply personal, try not to take it personally," Quinn said in a sweet but condescending voice, as Santana covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"Wh- What?" Rachel stuttered, realizing that this was the first time either of the girls had spoken to her directly.

Instead of answering, both girls stepped aside to reveal the cast list. The top row of the list had Tony in the left had column, with Blaine's name typed next to it on the right. Just below it was the name Maria and she traced her finger along to the right hand side, already smiling in victory when her eyes landed on the accompanying name. _Quinn Fabray_. Her eyes immediately widened in shock. That _couldn't_ be right. She traced her finger along the line once more to double check she was reading it correctly but, sure enough, it was Quinn's name in big, black letters right next to _her_ dream role.

Rachel frantically looked up and down the right hand column, searching for her own name. Right at the bottom, sitting there in all their misery, were the words _Rachel Berry - Swing_. A swing? How could that have happened? Mr Ryerson had been enthralled with her performance. So how had the girl who couldn't even sing in the correct key have stolen _her_ part?

Determined to get some answers, Rachel pushed back through the group of people, completely ignoring the smug expressions on Quinn and Santana's faces, and stomped towards Mr Ryerson's office. She didn't even stop when Kurt called after her, asking her whether she was okay.

...

After her confrontation with Mr Ryerson, Rachel had spent nearly an hour crying in the girls' bathroom, causing her to miss Spanish and Calculus. So, not only had she missed out on the lead role in the school musical, she was now flushing her grades down the toilet to boot. On the plus side, it allowed her to avoid Kurt and his pitying eyes until lunch time, by which point her devastation had dissipated to be replaced by white, hot rage.

Kurt, Mercedes, Tina and Artie sat in a row in the otherwise empty choir room as Rachel paced back and forth in front of them, their eyes following her every movement like they were at a tennis match.

"I can't believe him," Rachel screeched, furiously wringing her hands. "It's unbelievable."

"Calm down, girl. Your damn pacing is giving me a migraine," Mercedes said, rubbing her temples. "Just tell us again exactly what Ryerson said."

Rachel fell into one of the chairs with a theatrical huff, trying to collect herself enough to explain Ryerson's ludicrous reasons for giving the part to _Quinn_. She didn't want to feel resentful towards the blonde cheerleader she knew barely anything about, but it was kind of hard not to when she already had _everything_ - popularity, beauty and a 4.0 GPA - and still managed to get _more_, whilst Rachel was confined to the lowest realm of high school loserdom and couldn't even manage to get a proper role in the school musical.

"He said that being a swing was a very important role and that I'd be first in line to play Maria if Quinn fell sick. When I asked why I wasn't the first in line to play Maria _before_ Quinn, he told me that I don't have her 'star quality' and my nose is too 'Hebraic'."

"Isn't that kind of... racist?" Tina asked uncertainly.

Her fellow glee club members nodded their heads in agreement. Truthfully, the comment about her nose had been the least upsetting part. She knew her nose was slightly larger than average - she'd been told that plenty of times - but she was proud of her heritage, and nothing could change that. The worst part was being told that she wasn't a star. She had every belief in herself that she was destined for greatness, for Broadway, for multiple Tony Awards. So why could no one else see it? The thought of waiting in the wings every single night of the school musical, whilst Quinn played the part that should rightfully have been hers, made Rachel sick to her stomach.

"Uh, there's no way Machiavellian Barbie was better than you," Kurt reassured her. "She probably had to blackmail Ryerson for that role."

_Quinn rapped lightly on the door to Mr Ryerson's office and waited until she received permission before entering. The ex-show choir director's room really freaked her out. The walls were pale pink and it was furnished with plush, pink chairs, desks, and filing cabinets. To top off the already garish decor, fuzzy pink scatter cushions and creepy cuddly toy cats covered his chaise longue (which was also pink). It looked like the pleasure palace she had for her Barbie dolls when she was five years old. "Ah, Miss Fabray," he greeted her as she slipped in the door. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"_

_"Actually, I was hoping to speak to you about the school musical and my role in it," she told him without preamble._

_"Ah, well, the cast list goes up on Friday and I'm afraid I can't discuss anything with you until then."_

_A disingenuous smile came to her lips as she took a step closer to his desk and placed her binder on it. She leaned towards him so that their faces were a mere ten inches apart. "See, I want to do everything that I can to ensure I get that lead. Do you understand, Mr Ryerson?"_

_The man's eyes widened in shock. "Are you... Are you trying to seduce me Miss Fabray? Because that's a violation of school codes."_

_Quinn laughed hollowly. "Of course I'm not trying to seduce you. You're a creepy old pervert who collects cuddly toys," she said, moving to pick up one of the stuffed cats. She frowned at it in disgust for a moment before throwing it back onto the chaise longue. "I'm actually here to extort you. See... I happen to be in possession of some evidence that proves _you_, Mr Ryerson, to be guilty of selling illicit substances to students on school property. Something called the 'Chronic Lady', I believe."_

_His jaw went slack immediately and she knew that she had his attention. There was no way he could possibly worm his way out of this situation with the school; Figgins would fire him immediately and he'd probably even go to prison for dealing marijuana. "So... About that part?" she said sweetly, as if she hadn't just been threatening him._

_Mr Ryerson gulped loudly and then cleared his throat. "I'll see what I can do for you."_

_She smiled at him over her shoulder as she sauntered towards the door. "That's all I ask, Mr Ryerson."_

"I certainly wouldn't put it past her," Mercedes agreed. Tina and Artie also nodded.

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip. The idea of Mr Ryerson caving to the threats of a sixteen year old girl seemed completely ludicrous. Quinn Fabray was certainly feared by many of her peers, but she surely couldn't have any real power over the faculty. "I'm not sure, you guys. I mean, even if she _did_ blackmail Ryerson for that role, there's nothing I can do about it. I just have to resign myself to the fact that I'm even too much of a loser to get cast in the school musical."

"Rachel Berry. _You_ are not a loser," Kurt said fervently. "You're special... It's just that sometimes the world doesn't appreciate our particular brand of special."

It didn't really make her feel any better. Just once, she wanted to be the girl who got the brass ring. She didn't need to be pretty or popular. She didn't need to date the hottest guy in school. She couldn't have cared less that people didn't part like the Red Sea as she walked down the halls of McKinley. All those things Quinn Fabray had... She wasn't interested in any of them. All she wanted was the lead role in the school musical.

"You know what the worst part is?" she said, her voice almost cracking with tears. "Mr Ryerson is making me help Quinn with her vocals. He says he wants me to teach her how to hit the high A. I have to work with her every freaking day on the songs _I_ should be singing."

For all the advice Sam had given her to _stay away from the Unholy Trinity_, she was getting stuck with their leader through no choice of her own. If she'd learnt anything from her first two weeks as a high school student it was that choosing your friends was the easy part. Avoiding your rivals, on the other hand, was like navigating a minefield.

...

Whilst waiting in her car for Santana, Quinn drummed out an erratic beat against her steering wheel with her fingers. It was something she did to distract herself when she was feeling anxious or upset. She'd been feeling sick ever since the _West Side Story_ cast list had been put up that morning, but she couldn't figure out why. It wasn't her time of the month and she'd barely eaten anything, so food poisoning was also out. She wondered if maybe she was coming down with a stomach bug. It was the start of flu season, after all.

Before she had chance to ruminate further on her ailment, Santana jumped into the passenger side of her car. She must have noticed the sour expression on Quinn's face because she immediately said, "penny for your thoughts?"

"I'm not feeling too good, 's all."

Santana narrowed her eyes skeptically, the power of her so-called 'psychic Mexican third eye' kicking into overdrive. "This is about Berry, isn't it?"

Quinn shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure herself. But when she saw the tears welling up in the tiny, Jewish girl's eyes, just before she ran off down the hall, it had felt like being stabbed in the stomach with a sharp knife. She refused to believe that the horrible pain had been some sort of pang of guilt, because that would have meant that she was _feeling_ again... And that just couldn't be.

Allowing herself to experience _real_ emotions was a slippery slope that she wasn't prepared for.

* * *

**Any theories about Quinn?**

**Please, _please_ don't forget to review with your comments and predictions. They make my day. Thanks again for reading!**


	8. One Hand, One Herbal Tea

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: One Hand, One Herbal Tea**

Even though Rachel had spent the entire weekend crying and beating her pillow, the sting of losing Maria was no duller than it had been the previous Friday. If anything, she was feeling more bitter and frustrated, and those negative emotions were bleeding into her first vocal coaching session with Quinn. The blonde girl had not been best pleased when Mr Ryerson broke the news that she'd be working closely with Rachel in the run up to opening night. On that much, they were in complete agreement.

"You were flat," she stated brusquely as the backing track of _One Hand, One Heart_ came to a close. It may have seemed petty, but Rachel prided herself on being an honest critic and Quinn really _had_ been flat. If she wanted to keep up with Blaine's note perfect vocals, she was going to have to improve. Quickly.

Rachel felt a sadistic sense of satisfaction when Quinn's eyebrows crumpled together in irritation. Obviously she wasn't used to be criticized or challenged in any way. Her minions seemed to worship the ground she walked on, and all the other students of McKinley were simply too terrified to utter a bad word about her. Rachel, however, had already managed to stand her ground against Azimio and Karofsky during their brutal slushie attack; there was no way she was going to allow Quinn to intimidate her. "Let's go again," Rachel suggested.

"I need a break. My throat's scratchy." Looking at her watch, Rachel realized that they'd been rehearsing for hours. It was no surprise that Quinn's vocal chords were feeling strained. Rachel pulled a flask and two mugs out from her schoolbag. "What the hell is that?" Quinn asked incredulously as Rachel unscrewed the cap and poured the liquid into the cups.

"It's herbal tea with honey and lemon," she explained. "I find it does wonders for my throat."

Rachel handed a cup of the yellowish-brown concoction to Quinn, who promptly took a sniff and turned her nose up. Not to be deterred by the horrible smell, Quinn tentatively gulped down some of the herbal tea... Only for it to inelegantly spurt out of her nose and mouth in all directions less than a second later. "Uh, that's _disgusting_. You people of the forest may drink this shit, but I'm certainly not going to."

Rachel bowed her head to hide the tears in her eyes and gather her courage, before she looked directly at Quinn. "You may be the star of the Cheerios and a shoo-in for Homecoming Queen, but you and I both know that you're nowhere near as good as me. You can't hit the high A, your voice control is poor, and you seem to be incapable of conveying the intensity of emotion that is essential for any authentic portrayal of Maria. Frankly, I have no idea _why_ Ryerson gave you the part over me... But he did. So why don't you quit behaving like a mean, stuck-up, little harpy, drink the goddamn tea, and listen to someone who actually knows a thing or two about this musical."

Even as the words left her mouth, Rachel braced herself for Quinn's response. She was half expecting the Cheerios' captain to punch her in the face or claw her eyes out for having the audacity to address her with such blatant disrespect.

In a way, Rachel was more concerned when Quinn _didn't_ reproach her. Her jaw dropped in utter shock for a brief moment but she quickly schooled her features into into her customarily cold mask and took a few sips of tea, wincing a little as the unpleasant taste lingered on her tongue. "You know, no one has ever spoken to me like that," Quinn said after a few beats of silence. "Not even Santana."

"Yes, well, I don't take kindly to being pushed around," Rachel replied, her voice conveying more courage than she truly felt. Just because Quinn hadn't verbally or physically attacked her yet, didn't mean she was in the clear. From the minimal amount of information Kurt had given her, it sounded like Quinn could be incredibly manipulative and Rachel knew that she'd have to protect herself if she wanted to avoid being stabbed in the back. She wasn't quite sure how Kurt knew this about Quinn. Perhaps he'd been on the receiving end of it at some point, but he hadn't said so. Still, Rachel felt that Kurt could be trusted, whereas she had no reason to believe the same about Quinn.

The blonde girl looked like she was about to say something, but she quickly changed her mind and shut her mouth. An awkward silence fell upon them for a moment, until Rachel broke it with a question she'd been wondering for a while. "Why do people keep telling me to stay away from you?" She knew that she was potentially dropping her friends in it by asking, and she felt bad about that, but she was also intrigued to know more about Quinn. Not _Quinn through the eyes of Sam_, she wanted to understand the real Quinn Fabray.

To Rachel's surprise, Quinn didn't even ask who had said that. She just laughed and said, "maybe it's because I'm a mean, stuck-up, little harpy." Strangely, she didn't seem upset or angry as she echoed Rachel's insult from just moments before. Her features even softened slightly, making her look more open and vulnerable that normal. There was a slight but unmistakable sadness in her eyes that Rachel didn't understand.

Rachel blushed, realizing that her words were perhaps a little harsh. "I don't really think that about you," she said apologetically. Quinn raised her eyebrow skeptically, as if to ask why she _wouldn't_ think that. "I don't really know what I think of you. I'd like to think that you're not a bad person, just... _misunderstood_. But maybe you really are just mean."

Quinn shrugged her shoulders carelessly, as if she couldn't be bothered with the discussion any longer. It looked like her impenetrable, icy facade was in place once again. Rachel couldn't keep up with her, she was so temperamental. Just as it seemed like she was letting her guard down for a moment, she'd put the walls back up. It almost seemed like Quinn had gotten so used to acting in a particular way that it frightened her when her true self started shining through.

There was still one more thing Rachel wanted to know, though. "Why did you audition for Maria?"

She still couldn't understand that part. After extensive research, Rachel found that Quinn had never been involved with either the music or drama departments in any capacity. Even throughout elementary school and junior high, she was apparently more of the athletic type. Her extracurricular activities included volleyball, gymnastics, and cheerleading. If she had been interested in musical theatre, she would've had every opportunity and reason to do it in previous years. Santana and Brittany had been involved in the school musical every year since they started high school, so she would have been surrounded by her friends. And, whilst Quinn was struggling with Maria, she would have been a strong choice for Sandy in the previous year's production of _Grease_. It seemed almost as if Quinn had _deliberately_ stolen the part from under her nose, but Rachel couldn't figure out why she would do that.

"Maybe I'm just a sucker for a tragic love story," Quinn said insincerely. "But, who even cares about my motivations? I'm here now, so you may as well get over it and help me with these songs... Or you can go somewhere else."

Quinn was sorely mistaken if she thought Rachel was going to just _get over it_. When she wanted something, Rachel went after it, and this time wasn't going to be an exception. She made a mental note to call Kurt and Mercedes later to tell them she'd changed her mind. If Quinn had blackmailed Mr Ryerson, like Kurt suspected, she was going to find out about it. And even if she hadn't blackmailed him, Rachel was determined to find another way to steal back the role she was born to play, consequences be damned.

...

Santana's fists balled up in the bed sheets as her body started to quake under the full force of her orgasm. Clamping her eyes shut, she imagined that the person with their head between her thighs - their mouth pressed against her hot center - was the only person she wanted it to be. She'd gotten used to doing this over the last couple of years and sex had become so impersonal that she barely even bothered with introductions anymore. As for kissing and cuddling... That just didn't happen. The only person she kissed during sex was Puck and, even then, it wasn't because she _loved_ him or anything. She was grateful for his support and the fact that he never judged her. It made her feel a little closer to him than all the others.

As Hayley (or was it Harriet? Holly?) the waitress from Breadstix gathered her clothes and belongings, Santana stayed on the bed and filed her nails. She was so lost in her own world that she wouldn't even have noticed the girl leave if she hadn't turned round to speak to her. "I promise I won't tell anyone," she said solemnly. Santana didn't bother to say thank you or goodbye to her; she simply shrugged her shoulders as if it made no difference to her one way or the other. Of course, it did make a difference to her, but Puck had already assured her that this girl was trustworthy. She wasn't sure how he figured these things out but he hadn't been wrong yet, so she trusted him implicitly.

Once the girl had slipped out of the door, Santana rolled onto her side and curled up in the fetal position. Rather than texting Quinn to see if she wanted to go to the Dairy Queen, like she usually did when she was feeling upset, Santana grabbed the box of Kleenex from her nightstand and allowed herself to cry. Through her sobs, she brokenly crooned the last lines of _I Have A Love_.

_When love comes so strong, _  
_There is no right or wrong, _  
_Your love is your life. _

* * *

**Lyrics are from _A Boy Like That/I Have A Love_ from _West Side Story_, music by Leonard Bernstein and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.**

**Please, please alert and review to share your thoughts. Thanks to everyone that has done so already :)**


	9. The Elephant in the Room

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.  
The flashback in italics takes place at the beginning of the characters' sophomore year, roughly a year before this story starts.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: The Elephant in the Room and a Bun in the Oven**

"That's a terrible idea," Kurt protested. "I don't think you should do it."

Whilst Rachel could understand his rejection of some of their more ludicrous ideas for getting rid of Quinn, which included 'accidentally' infecting her with mono and spiking her protein shake with laxatives a few hours before the opening show, Mercedes and Tina had actually just landed on a good idea.

"The way I see it, she extorted her way into the role, so why shouldn't we extort her out of it?" Tina reasoned. "It's called beating her at her own game."

The other two girls nodded their heads in agreement, but Kurt still wasn't convinced. "No. It's called stooping to her level. Besides, you know nothing about Quinn and I doubt she'd be stupid enough to tell Rachel anything. So, what exactly are you planning on extorting her with?"

Kurt did have a point, Rachel supposed. But she also couldn't help feeling like Kurt wasn't being completely honest with them. He wasn't just picking holes in their plan; he was completely obliterating it. It seemed almost like he was trying to protect Quinn in some way and she couldn't figure out why. Just earlier that day, Rachel had been wondering _how_ Kurt knew so much about Quinn and now she was particularly curious.

After a while, Mercedes and Tina had to go home for dinner with their families, but Kurt decided to stay for a little while longer. They were in the middle of watching _Hello Dolly!_ and sharing a delicious and nutritious vegan salad, when Rachel suddenly grabbed the controller and paused the film. "Hey!" Kurt wailed. "This is my favorite bit."

Rachel ignored his objections, deciding to get straight to the point. "Why are you so against us messing with Quinn? Aren't you fed up of being pushed around by people at school?"

Kurt sighed and combed his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. "Of course I'm fed up of being pushed around..." He paused for a long moment, contemplating how to best express his reservations. "I just think you're out of your league with Quinn. If you go through with this ridiculous plan to blackmail her out of the role, it's going to blow up in everybody's faces. Is it really worth hurting a bunch of people just to get a part in the school musical?"

Everything he said was so cryptic. "I don't understand, Kurt. It's like you know something you're not telling me. _Who_ is going to get hurt by this?"

"_Just_... _People_!" he yelled exasperatedly, jumping up from his place on the sofa. "Trust me, Rachel. _Please_."

Rachel didn't know how she was supposed to trust him on this when he refused to explain what was going on, but she nodded her head anyway.

"I have to go," Kurt said softly, seeming a little less tense. With that, he walked out of the door, leaving Rachel to brood over what had just happened. Kurt was certainly acting suspicious and it was bothering her. The whole time she'd been worrying about the school musical and Quinn stabbing her in the back, had Kurt actually been the person she needed to keep an eye on? It was one thing having to watch her back to make sure her enemies didn't thrust a knife through it but, if she couldn't trust her friends, who the hell _could_ she trust?

...

As soon as Kurt got home, he ran straight upstairs, ignoring the greetings from his father and Carole. He rapped his knuckles against his brother's closed door several times before daring to enter. Finn and Puck were sat on the end of the bed holding remote controllers, blasting one another's brains out in some silly video game Kurt didn't even know the name of. It was amazing to him how Finn and his friends were so easily entertained.

"Finn, I need to talk to you," he yelled over the simulated sound of gun shots, his voice fraught with panic.

"Just a minute, dude. I just want to get to the end of this level," he replied without even tearing his eyes away from the screen.

Kurt inhaled an angry breath through his nose, walked over to the mains socket and pulled out the power cord. "Hey!" the two boys chorused as the screen went black.

"Thanks a bunch, Hummel. I was just about to trash your brother for the third time in one night," Puck bemoaned, throwing his controller onto the floor.

Ignoring Puck's complaints, Kurt stood right in front of his brother. "I said I need to talk to you. It's important."

Even Finn, who wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, could tell that whatever was bothering Kurt was urgent. He smiled apologetically at his best friend in a way that politely - but in no uncertain terms - said _get out of my bedroom_. Puck sighed, but got up off the bed without argument and headed towards the door. "I have a feeling you two are going to be talking a while, so I'll just see you both at school, I guess," he said, before leaving the room and gently closing the door behind him.

Finn flopped back onto the bed and prepared himself for a very long speech from Kurt. "So, what's up? You and your friends having trouble with the football team again or something?"

"When are we not having problems with the football team?" Kurt deadpanned. "But that's not what this is about. I'm actually more worried about your problems."

"My problems?" Finn questioned confusedly. "I don't have any problems. I mean, sure, Coach Beiste is on my ass about football and some of the guys are still giving me the cold shoulder for narking on Azimio and Karofsky, but that's nothing new."

Kurt moved to the edge of the bed and grabbed Finn's hands, pulling him up into a seated position. "I think you need to sit up for this because you're about to get some problems... Big ones." Obviously Kurt was finally getting through to him because Finn sat up straight and stared at his brother with rapt attention, waiting for him to continue. "Quinn got the role Rachel wanted in the school musical, so Rachel's planning on uncovering all her secrets and threatening to expose them if she doesn't step down."

Finn's eyebrows furrowed as he processed the information. It was kind of an annoyance to Finn that, even a whole year after his break up with Quinn, their twisted past kept seeming to catch up on him. If it wasn't Quinn, Santana and Brittany trying to sabotage every one of his relationships before they even started, it was fiercely ambitious, kind of hot new girls trying to expose Quinn's darkest secrets. It was the sort of stuff you only saw on those stupid CW teen drama shows Kurt watched. Honestly, he couldn't be more ecstatic to be getting out of McKinley (and hopefully Lima) in less than two years.

"What exactly do you want me to do about it, Kurt? I'll be out of this hell hole soon and none of these fucking stupid girl problems will matter at all," he finally said. "Let Rachel do whatever the hell she likes. I certainly won't be losing any sleep over it."

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "How can you be so nonchalant about this? You do remember what happened, don't you?"

_Hearing the doorbell ring and knowing that it was his girlfriend of nearly four months, Finn shouted to Kurt that he would answer it and eagerly ran down the stairs. Things with Quinn had been going really well and Finn felt confident that they were about to take the next step in their relationship. Puck had been teasing him about losing his virginity for months, calling him Finnocence and making crude gestures behind Quinn's back, but Finn hadn't wanted to rush things between them. They were both young and in their first real relationships, and he wanted to be sure it was right for _both_ of them before doing anything they couldn't undo. He'd had the 'talk' with Burt about being respectful and careful, which was one of the most uncomfortable conversations of his life, but he did feel a lot better afterwards. He felt _ready_. All he had to do was wait for Quinn to be ready as well._

_"Hey beautiful," he greeted her as he opened the door. He was about to lean in and kiss her on the cheek when he noticed the smears of mascara on her cheeks and the red, puffiness around her eyes. A sudden wave of nausea came over him as he grabbed her hand and gently led her inside the house and up to his bedroom. Whatever she was upset about was definitely serious and he was worried._

_After he'd closed the door behind him, Quinn threw herself into his arms and started sobbing into his shoulder. He stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her. "What is it, baby?" he asked._

_She took a step back and swallowed hard. "I'm pregnant," she said simply. _

_Finn was about to start laughing, but then he realized she wasn't joking. "B- but how? We never even-"_

_She cut him off before he had chance finish stuttering his sentence. "The hot tub," she explained with a pointed__ glare, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. _

_He'd never heard of anyone getting impregnated via hot tub. "But we had out bathing suits on."_

_"The doctor said a hot tub is the perfect temperature for the sperm to travel."_

_Finn was still dubious, but she'd started to cry again and he was overcome with the need to comfort her. They laid down on the bed for a while and he continued to hold her until there were no tears left. Inwardly, he was freaking out. How the hell was he supposed to be a father? He'd never even _had_ a father. And did she even want to keep the child? He didn't give voice to any of those questions though because he didn't want to pressure her. They had time to figure out what they were going to do. At that moment, all she needed was for him to be with her._

_After a few hours, Quinn told him she needed to go home, or else her parents would start asking question. After he'd reassured her that everything was going to be okay and let her out of the house, he went back up to his room to get some much needed sleep. Unfortunately, Kurt had other ideas. His brother was perched on the end of his bed wearing a gloomy expression._

_Finn sighed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You heard all of that, didn't you?"_

_Kurt didn't answer, but Finn could tell by the way he bowed his head and the twitch of his lips that he had. Finn sat down next to him and dropped his head into his hands as he started to cry. Kurt rubbed his back in soothing circles and, after a moment of loaded silence, he cleared his throat to talk. "You do realize it's impossible to get pregnant via hot tub," he said timorously._

_Finn turned his head to look at his brother for a second. "I kind of guessed that much," he admitted, before he choked on a sob and fell back onto his bed. _

"Of course I remember my girlfriend cheating on me and getting knocked up, Kurt," he said dryly. "But it's fine. The only people who know are you, me, Quinn and Mr Schue. As long as we all keep our mouths shut, Rachel will never find out."

"I hope you're right," Kurt sighed.

What the two brothers didn't realize was that Puck had been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.

* * *

**So... What do we think? I know the set up has taken a while, but things are about to get more exciting.  
Oh, and you'll get to know Brittany a bit better in the next chapter. Yay!**

**I felt really nervous about posting this chapter, so please review if you have the time. It's truly appreciated.**


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